


Halloween

by GE72



Category: Law & Order: Criminal Intent
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Murder Mystery, Police Procedural, Rare Pairing, Remembrance of Past Cases
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 07:52:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14052366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GE72/pseuds/GE72
Summary: With their respective partners on other assignments or business, NYPD detectives Robert Goren and Mike Logan are paired together to investigate when a killing spree on Halloween night leaves six college students dead, including the daughter of a U.S. Senate candidate, and one traumatized survivor. But the case blows up when the candidate accuses the local precinct captain of dereliction and possible collusion in the murders.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a major crime story. I don't know the whole of police procedure, as I was going for making a good story.  
> Also, what if Goren and Logan had worked another case together? They had before in "In The Wee Small Hours" in season 5 of the series. Here, they work another case, with a little bit of the other's personality rubbing off on the other. This could be either season 6 or season 7, your choice. And you will see, in the beginning, the story will start in the present, backtrack a little, then proceed forward.  
> Hopefully, this is a good story.

_“In New York City’s war on crime, the worst criminal offenders are pursued by the detectives of the Major Case Squad. These are their stories.”_

FRIDAY NOVEMBER 1, ONE POLICE PLAZA  
11:07 A.M.

The throng of reporters were assembled in the media conference room of One Police Plaza, the headquarters of the New York City Police, waiting for the officers and investigators to arrive. It had been close to twelve hours, maybe thirteen, since the bodies had been discovered at house a few blocks away from Hudson University.

The men from the New York City police department entered the room and went on to the podium. They were Captain Danny Ross of the Major Case Squad, whose team was heading up the investigation; Captain John Billings of the 32nd precinct, the precinct whose area included the university, and detectives Robert Goren and Mike Logan.

The two detectives had reputations somewhat known to the media. Goren was cerebral, psychologically intuitive, and seemingly a fountain of knowledge that make any academician just shake his head. He had been known to manipulate confessions out of suspects, making the prosecutors job a lot easier. But there were some people higher up in the department who believed that he was playing with a few screws loose. 

Logan, on the other hand, was impulsive, intense, and hot headed. His hot headedness got him banished to Staten Island for ten years for slugging an anti-gay politician before being brought back to the city. The ten years may have cooled his temper but not by much.

Ross and Billings were to do much of the talking to the media. Goren and Logan were there just for show.

Captain Ross addressed the media first.

“Late last night and early this morning,” he said, “New York City police were called to an abandoned house, five blocks away from Hudson University. There, the bodies of six individuals were found, all murdered. First responders did find one person, a young woman, alive and untouched, and she was taken University Hospital. She is undergoing evaluation as we speak.”

A question quickly came from the media. “How were the victims murdered?”

Ross replied, “We cannot comment on that aspect of the investigation, as of now. All that we can say is that all the victims were all killed in a similar fashion.”

Another question. “Have you identified the victims?”

“We have identified some of the victims,” Ross replied. “But we cannot release the names of the victims until we notified all of the next of kin. We are still in the process of doing so.”

Another question: “We understand that a number of the victims were students at Hudson University. Can you confirm that?”

Logan leaned over to Goren, muttering “How did they find that out so fast?”

Ross stepped aside from the podium, as Billings took to answering that question. “Yes, all six victims were students enrolled at Hudson University.”

“What is the situation at the university? Are all the students safe as we speak?”

Billings answered, “The university is on high alert. I have been in contact with the school; classes have been cancelled for the day.”

The same reporter asked, “There has been tension between the university and the local precinct over some incidents, especially this past spring. Has the situation – “

“Hold on right there,” Billings said to him. “There was been some problems between the precinct and various groups at the school. But I assure you the police will do their best to find out those responsible for this heinous act – “

“You want to find the killer of those students!” someone called out. “He’s right there!”

The reporter turned to see who said that. A man in a suit, gray haired, and about six feet tall, and he was walking down the aisle towards the podium.

“He killed my daughter!” he bellowed out. “There, Captain John Billings!”

Goren said to Logan, “This is not good.”

“You think?” replied Logan. 

“I know what you did to those kids!” he shouted at Billings. “You just sat back and did nothing!” The media, those who didn’t have recording equipment, began quickly scribbling down what he was accusing the police of, as photographers quickly began snapping pictures of the scene.

“What are you talking about?” Ross demanded. “And who are you?”

“I’m Frank Reece,” he answered angrily. “My daughter was Allison Reece, a student at Hudson. And John Billings killed my daughter!”

“What the hell are you talking about!?” demanded Billings. “I did no such thing!”

“You killed all those people at the school!” Reece bellowed. “You killed my daughter! You killed her, you son of a –“

Reece charged the stage. Quickly, Goren and Logan stepped in front of the podium, as Reece raised his right hand in a fist. The fist swung, as Logan caught it, hooking his arm around Reece’s to prevent it from reaching Billings. Ross, on the other hand, pulled Billings back away from the podium.

Uniformed officers rushed over, restraining Reece from going any further than he did at Billings, as the photographers kept on clicking away on their cameras, and the cameramen from the TV stations kept on rolling.

Simply put, all hell was breaking loose. The discovery of six murdered college students on Halloween night was something right out a horror movie. But an accusation of collusion and conspiracy by a grieving father against the New York City Police Department was something much worse.


	2. Chapter 2

OCTOBER 30, ONE POLICE PLAZA, MAJOR CASE HEADQUARTERS

Megan Wheeler poked her head into Captain Ross’ office. “You wanted to see me?” she asked.

“Are your reports on the Schneider case finished?” Ross asked.

“Yes, they are,” the red headed female detective said as she stepped inside her captain’s office.

“That’s good.” Ross was at his desk, going over other reports.

“You look a little worried.”

“I’m the captain, I’m supposed to be,” Ross said. “Is everything ready for you down in Washington?”

“Last I checked,” Wheeler said. The Major Case detective was going down to Washington D.C. for a week for an undercover assignment to help the FBI.

“Okay,” Ross said. “Come back safe.”

The door to Ross’ office opened again. In walked Alexandra Eames, another Major Case detective. “Just thought I’d say bye before I head off,” she said. Detective Eames had some leave time accumulated and decided to take it over the week of Halloween.

“Thanks,” Ross said. “Enjoy your time off.”

Both Eames and Wheeler looked at their boss. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Wheeler asked.

Ross looked up from his paperwork. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know,” Eames replied. Though both her and Wheeler looked as if they had a pretty good idea. “Maybe because the next big case that comes through, Bobby and Mike will be working together.”

That thought did cross Ross’ mind. The thought of Robert Goren and Mike Logan, the respective partners of Eames and Wheeler, working together on a case was like putting gasoline on a smoldering pile, then tossing a match on top of it, followed by a fistful of M-80 firecrackers.

“That did cross my mind,” Ross said. “But I’m pretty sure they can handle it well.”

“They have worked together before,” replied Wheeler. “Eames told me about the Garrett case.” 

“I know that as well,” Ross said, knowing about the judge’s son involved in the disappearance and murder of a high school girl from Iowa. “By the way, where are those two?”

“Bobby went with Mike to get some information on a case,” Eames said. “Not sure which case. They also had another stop to make.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure they’ll be fine with whatever case they draw,” Wheeler said. 

The two woman detectives said their goodbyes to their boss and left. Ross pondered what they said.

_Whatever case they draw…_

Ross hoped whatever case it was, it wouldn’t blow up in his face.

************************************

It was just after one o’clock. Mike Logan stood over the gravestone pondering the life of his friend, as well as his own mortality. The marble marker said:

> Leonard Briscoe 1935-2004. 

> One of New York’s Finest 

“I bet he was a helluva guy,” Robert Goren said.

“He was my partner in the two-seven,” Logan said. “The best partner I ever had.”

Logan served as one of Briscoe’s pallbearers at his funeral. There was him, Rey Curtis, John Munch, Eddie Green, and Don Cragen, as well as a detective from the Special Victims Unit under Cragen’s command, Elliott Stabler, carrying his casket that cold January day just after New Year’s to his final resting place, a week after he died. The department spared no expense in his funeral, burying him with full honors as bagpipes played “Amazing Grace.” Both of his ex-wives were there, sitting next to Anita Van Buren, as they each received a folded flag, both for his service in the department and in the Army. All the people he worked with in the department were there, as well as ones from the district attorney’s office – Jack McCoy, Abbie Carmichael, Serena Southerlyn, Jamie Ross, Paul Robinette, even Adam Schiff. Ben Stone couldn’t make the service, but he sent his regards and condolences.

“I crossed paths with him a couple of years back on this case,” Goren recalled. “Someone was putting poisoned aspirin in the stores, just to get money from a settlement. Part of the great American pastime – suing people.”

“He would’ve said something like that,” Logan said. 

Logan stood over the marker for a few more minutes, as Goren kept quiet. It was one of the few times Goren did stay quiet, though his mind was always going a hundred miles a minute. This time, however, it slowed down. In his time on the Major Case Squad, Logan had seen how Goren’s mind worked seeing how he can trick a suspect into a confession. He was a fountain of information, from the ridiculous to the sublime. Of course, Logan also knew of Goren’s unorthodox style and eccentricities, which was both a blessing and a curse, given his family history of schizophrenia, which he somehow avoided.

As for Logan, he knew anything could change just like that. Just like when he clocked that politician in full view of the news cameras and got shuttled off to Staten Island for ten years. His involvement in Goren and Eames’ investigation of a murdered prison guard got him back to Manhattan and the Major Case Squad. He also knew he was on a very short leash, especially after shooting that undercover cop who didn’t identify himself, which cost Ross’ predecessor, James Deakins, the one who brought Logan over and defended him, his job.

“Goodbye Lennie,” Logan finally said.

The two headed back to Major Case Headquarters at One Police Plaza, as a cold wind blew through the cemetery. Halloween was just less than twenty-four hours away.


	3. Chapter 3

OCTOBER 31, HUDSON UNIVERSITY, KAPPA DELTA EPSILON SORORITY, 8:35 P.M.

Donna Bradford tried to push the numbers on her cell phone, even as the numbers began to blur in her eyes.

“Please, please, hurry up,” she said to herself.

She was dressed in all white, with a touch of lace. The makeshift halo she had on her head had fallen off inside the sorority house, somewhere, she wasn’t sure where anymore. This was more important.

She pushed the final number, and heard the ringing on the other end. Her eyes began to blur even more, as her body began to lull into unconsciousness.

“Hi, this is Chris, I can’t come to my phone, but leave a message and a number, thanks.” BEEP.

“Chris!” Donna exclaimed. “Come quick….I can’t stay awake….I think….I think…..I think I’ve been drugged…..Chris!....I’m at the house….Please hurry!...” 

The noise of the party close by began to mix up with the noise in her own head. She tried to stay on her feet, as she tried to walk away from the sorority house.

It was Kappa Delta Epsilon’s Halloween Party. All the girls, thirty five in all, had all dressed up in their costumes, all to the point of being risqué. It was a sorority after all. Lots of booze was flowing inside, mostly vodka and sangria. Only Donna’s costume was simple, definitely more chaste than anyone’s. She was an angel, all dressed in white. Very appropriate, considering her father was a politically influential Christian pastor from Uniondale.

Sadly, this Halloween party, as least for her, was going to hell.

She stumbled a few more steps, before someone else grabbed her, steadying her.

“Donna, are you okay?”

Donna tried to focus her eyes on the person who was helping her. 

“No,” she said. “Brandy, let me go –“

“You look terrible,” Brandy Hallstrom said.

“No,” pleaded Donna, her voice beginning to waver. “Chris…..he’s coming…”

“I’ll just sit you down,” Brandy said, guiding her to a place to sit. Donna kept on stumbling, as the drug, whatever she took – or was given – was beginning to overtake her.

“Everything will be fine,” Brandy said. Donna’s eyes began to droop close.

A couple of more steps followed, as Donna saw where Brandy was guiding her. There was a chair, but inside a car.

She made an attempt to break free, but it was too late. Whatever was given to her finally knocked her out.

“Put her in the back,” a woman dressed as a devil said. Her costume made her look more like a hooker, though, with tight, dark red shorts, an even tighter red sport top, and red knee high leather boots. She had a pair of horns attached to her blonde hair.

“So, what’s the plan Allison?” Brandy asked her friend, as she placed Donna in the back seat.

“The plan is to get her out of the sorority,” Allison said sharply, her breath hot with vodka. “It’s about time we got her got out.”

“A bit cold.”

“After what she did to us, she deserves it.”

“Where are you taking her?” Brandy asked.

“Just a few blocks away,” Allison said. “Just be here when we bring her back.” Allison went to the front seat of the car, an early nineties black Mustang, and drove off. Brandy went back to the party inside the Kappa house.

Neither girl noticed that someone across the street, hiding behind a tree, had been watching.

32 ND PRECINCT, 9 p.m.

The foursome was hauled in by the officers into the station. They all were in costume, and they were all in the bag.

Captain John Billings saw them as they came in. “More D and D’s?” he asked.

One of the officers, Karla Doland nodded. “All from the university,” she said. “Surprise, surprise.”

“Don’t those kids have anything better to do than get drunk?” Billings asked.

Another officer, Pete Valle, said, “They’d get stoned if they didn’t run out of pot.”

One of the drunken students looked at the officers. “Officer, I’d like to report an assault,” he said.

“Really?” said Valle. “Where?”

“Here.” The drunk student feebly swung, only hitting air while falling forward, and landing at Billings’ feet.

“Put him in the tank,” Billings said, "along with the rest."

“Captain,” Don Worland, the desk sergeant called out. “We got a call about another clown running around without his pants on. Fifth one tonight, same as before.”

“Great, more prank calls,” Billings said disgustingly. “Tell them if they see It again, tell him the circus left town.” He stepped aside to let officers pick up the drunken student at his feet. “I’ll be in my office.” Billings turned and walked away.

“How many more of these calls are we going to get tonight?” Valle asked Worland.

“Too damn many,” Worland replied. “Maybe the next one, we can just tell them to forget it.”

“Don’t sound like the captain,” Valle said. “It might get you into trouble.”

9:05 p.m.

Allison placed the unconscious Donna on the middle of the floor. The room was dark and only illuminated by candles, burning in each corner of the room. There was a klieg light on a stand in one of the corners but it was off, as was the generator powering it.

“How long will she be out?” the man who helped Allison asked.

“Long enough,” Allison replied.

“What if she wakes up?”

“All the better.”

“How much did you give her?”

“Enough.” Allison looked at him. “Where are the others, Dave?”

“They’re on their way,” Dave said. “Derek will join them later. He’s getting a couple of kegs.”

“Good.” Allison looked at the unconscious Donna. Her body, draped in her angelic costume, was in the middle of the circle, painted red, with a pentagram inside the circle. 

Allison said to her, “You should’ve known better than to turn on us the way you did.”

Outside the house, the person who had seen them outside the Kappa sorority had followed them. It was five blocks away from the university campus. He was across the street watching, and waiting.

KAPPA THETA EPSILON 9:15 p,m.

Chris Mallory burst into the sorority. “WHERE IS SHE?” he yelled out.

The party goers inside the house, all in costume, just looked at him, then resumed doing what they were doing – drinking and dancing, not necessarily in that order.

“Where is she!?” Chris demanded. He was the only one not in a costume.

“Chris!” Shannon Dutton, the head of the Kappa house, made her way through the crowd to him. She was dressed up as a cowgirl, with demin shorts a la Daisy Duke. “What the hell is going on?”

“I got a call from Donna,” Chris said. “She said someone drugged her, and she was scared out of her mind. So where is she?!”

“I don’t know where she is now!” Shannon said, trying to lead Chris to the door. “Last time I saw her, she seemed okay to me.”

“So, you have no idea what the hell is happening,” Chris angrily said. “Typical.” He looked around again. “Where’s that psycho bitch Allison?”

Shannon looked around as well. “I don’t know – “ Shannon looked around again. “You know, I haven’t seen her in a while either.” She looked at Chris. “You don’t think – “

“Allison? Donna?” Chris said. “It’s not good.”

“Look, I don’t know where they are, or if they’re even together,” Shannon insisted. “I know you’re Donna’s boyfriend and all, but just calm down and – “

“I’ll calm down when I find Donna!” Chris snapped. He turned to walk away as a couple of party goers came up to him.

“You said you were looking for Donna?” one of them asked. Chris nodded. “I saw her earlier. Someone was helping her out of a car just a few blocks away. 

“Yeah,” the other person said. “They were at this old house. I think its abandoned or something.”

“Thanks.” Chris pushed his way past them and out the door.

9:25 p.m.

Four guys from the Omega Theta Xi came into the old house. The old Victorian style house had been abandoned after it was learned the family living there, the Merzelas, were members of a South American drug cartel. The feds had them arrested and the house went on the market, after the furnishings had all been removed. That was four years ago. Apparently, nobody wanted to buy a house that used to belong to a drug cartel. 

The four guys were not dressed in costume, as they came up to Allison. For this, they didn’t need to be.

“Where’s the guest of honor?” one of them asked Allison.

“She resting comfortably,” Allison replied, puffing on a cigarette. “We’ll start pretty soon.”

“So, we’re going to sacrifice a virgin,” quipped another of the guys.

“No, just her virginity,” Allison replied. “Bring any party favors?”

“I brought this.” One of them raised his shirt, revealing a handgun, a .380 automatic, tucked in his waistband. 

“We won’t need that,” Allison said. “She’ll be quiet.”

“Actually, we got some blow if you want.”

“That will do.”

“It’s in the car.”

“Then get it, Jack,” one of the guys said.

Jack Winsome, who had the gun tucked into his waistband, went outside to the car, along with another, Greg Cooney. The blow – about a half a kilo of cocaine in a sealed plastic bag – was in the trunk.

“Here, take it inside,” jack said, tossing the bag to Greg. “I gotta use the bushes.”

Greg went back inside the house. Jack found a place in the bushes and quietly did his business. 

Once done, Jack began to walk back to the house. He heard some rustling behind him. Jack turned around.

Someone was coming slowly towards him. He was about his height, dressed simply in a shirt and jeans. And a devil’s mask over his face.

Though he couldn’t see his face, Jack knew who it was.

“What are you doing here, loser?” he sneered. The devil kept walking at him. “I don’t care if you’re the devil, get the f – “

The butcher’s knife came slashing out of nowhere. The blade caught Jack at the left side of his neck. Jack reached for the gun in his waistband, but it was too late.  
Jack fell to the ground, blood coming out of his jugular.

The devil just kept on walking past him, as Jack Winsome bled, trying to cry out for help in the final seconds of his life.

9:45 p.m.

The phone rang in Captain Billings’ office. “Hello, Thirty-second precinct.”

“HELP!” the female voice screamed on the other end. “HE’S KILLING US! HE’S – “

“Who is this?”

“FOR GOD’S SAKE, GET OVER HERE! HE’S KILLING EVERYONE HERE! HE’S A FREAKING PSYCHO!”

“Who is this?”

“THEY’RE ALL DEAD! GET OVER HERE NOW! THE OLD MERZELA HOUSE – “

“Is this some kind of joke?”

“NO IT’S NOT! THEY’RE ALL DEAD!”

“Is this a joke? Because I hear people laughing over there – “

“ARE YOU SERIOUS! THERE’S SOME PSYCHO HERE – “

“I have no time for practical jokes! Especially tonight!” 

With that, the line disconnected.

9:47 P.M.

The devil – or, the person in the devil’s mask – stood over Allison, the sorority girl in the slinky devil’s outfit. Allison was flat on the ground, staring up at him, both scared and defiant.

“Who the ---- are you?!” she demanded.

He didn’t answer. He knelt down, his left hand clamping down over her mouth. He raised his right hand high, the butcher’s knife barely glistening.

Allison swung a fist upward, catching him on the side of the face, just enough. The devil’s mask fell off his face, as his hand moved off of Allison’s mouth.

She saw who it was.

“You?” she exclaimed. “Of all the f------ people…you!?”

The knife came downward, as she screamed. 

Outside of the house, Chris Mallory heard the scream, and charged inside.

9:55 p.m.

The patrol car from the thirty second precinct drove slowly down the street.

“Did I hear that right?” officer John Brinker asked as his partner drove. “Don’t respond to any prank calls? How the hell are we supposed to know which are fake and which are real?”

“I guess who’s more drunk,” his partner, officer Pat Hogan replied. “I can see why though. It’s Halloween. Everyone’s making some sort of prank calls tonight.”

The car slowly made its way down the street, Hudson University within sight. They drew up even with the Merzela house.

Hogan slammed on the brakes, jolting the car to a stop. 

“What the hell!?” exclaimed Brinker.

“Over there!” Hogan said, getting out of the car, hand on his service weapon.

Brinker followed him across the street to the front of the Merzela house. In front of one of the bushes, slightly obscured but not enough, was the body of Jack Winsome. The slice in his neck was still dripping what was left of his blood onto the ground.

“Oh, my God,” Hogan muttered. “What in the – “

His sentence was cut off by a scream coming from inside the house.

Quickly the two officers raced to the door. The door was not locked, entering quickly, their service weapons drawn in one hand, and a flashlight in the other. They made their way to the living room, where a klieg light was still shining. They both looked at the floor.

There was Allison Reece’s body, ravaged by who-knows-how many stab wounds. Her body, still dressed in her devil’s costume, was laying over a painted red design.

“What the hell?” said Brinker. “Who screamed?”

“Definitely not him,” Hogan said, pointing off towards an entry way. Another dead body was laying across the entry, a huge splotch of blood over his back.

Hogan went into another entry way, as Brinker got on his radio. “Dispatch, here at 775 Kittering Street. Multiple DB’s. Requesting assistance.”

“Brinker, get in here!” Hogan yelled out. “We got a live one!”

Brinker went into the other room. Hogan was kneeling over the body of Donna Bradford, still dressed in her angel’s costume. There was barely audible breathing coming from her.

“Was she the one who screamed?” Brinker asked.

“She did,” Hogan said, pointing toward the far end of the room. “At that.”

Brinker shined his flashlight in that direction. There, was the body of Chris Mallory, dead with a butcher’s knife sticking out of his chest. Next to his dead body, was a mask of the devil.


	4. Chapter 4

OCTOBER 31, MERZELA HOUSE, 775 KITTERING STREET, 10:40 p.m.

Goren and Logan were up if any big case was called in to One Police Plaza on Halloween night. Sure enough, they got the call to the Merzela house just after ten fifteen that night.

When they pulled up in the SUV, the scene was already crawling with uniformed officers, paramedics, medical examiners, and crime scene technicians. A perimeter had been set around the front yard of the house, cordoned off by yellow crime scene tape. Civilians, some in Halloween costumes, were watching from behind the crime scene tape and the police cruisers, their sirens silently flashing, parked around as another barrier.

“Happy Halloween,” groused Logan as he and Goren stepped under the crime scene tape. The detectives made their way to where the body of Jack Winsome, the first victim, was laying. A medical examiner was going over the body.

“Hi there,” Goren said to the M.E. “What’s up?”

The medical examiner, a man in his thirties, looked up. “A couple of dinners,” he replied. “A couple of officers lost their stomachs once they saw some of the victims. I hope you didn’t have too much to eat.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Logan said. He looked down at the dead body. “How did he get it?”

“Slashed on the side of the neck. Cut open his jugular. Dead within thirty seconds.”

“Didn’t see it coming?” 

“He saw it all right,” the examiner said. “Guy was too fast.” He lifted up the victim’s shirt. “Even with that.” Goren and Logan saw the .380 automatic tucked in the waistband.

“Guy’s coming at you with a knife, and you don’t pull your gun?” Logan said. “Maybe he knew the guy.”

“Or didn’t think he was much of a threat,” said Goren.

The two of them turned to walk towards the house. On the front porch of the house, they saw Captain Ross waiting for them.

“The main show is inside,” he said to them as they walked up. “So is Doctor Rodgers.”

They entered the house. Temporary lighting had been set up to help the crime scene techs look for evidence not visible to the naked eye.

The only things visible to the naked eye were the bodies inside the main living room. One was at another entrance to the living room from the dining room; the other was the ravaged body of Allison Reece, still in her not-much-there devil costume. The chief medical examiner, Dr. Elizabeth Rodgers, was examining the corpse.

Logan took a quick scan of the body. “Let me guess,” he said. “They summoned up the devil and he didn’t like who was impersonating him.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Dr. Rodgers said. 

“Maybe the devil really did do it,” Logan said. “Looks like someone painted a pentagram here on the floor.”

“In real blood?” asked Ross.

“Most likely paint,” Goren replied. “Looks too bright to be blood.”

“Well, there’s a lot of blood in here,” Rodgers said to the detectives, as she got up. “In addition to the guy outside, and the other two here, there’s three more around the house. One was killed at the back door, another in the hallway, and one in the next room over.”

Dr. Rodgers led them into the next room. There, another medical technician going over the body of Chris Mallory.

“We checked his ID already,” the tech said. “Chris Mallory, twenty-one years old, from Hudson University.” He pointed at the knife still in the victim’s chest. “That’s what killed him.”

“He didn’t see it coming?” Logan asked.

“He put up one hell of a fight – pardon the expression. Bruises on his knuckles.” Dr. Rodgers pointed at the devil’s mask. “Probably knocked that off in the fight.” The detectives and the M.E. looked at the mask on the floor.

“Maybe the devil really did do it,” Goren remarked.

Goren and Logan went to where the other bodies were. One was in hallway leading to the backdoor, laying on his side, his neck slashed open where he bled to death. The other was just inside the back door, lying face down on the floor. Like the other, a wound to the neck did him in.

“One quick cut to the carotid or the jugular,” Logan said. “He’s efficient.”

“This guy was quick,” Goren pointed out to Logan. “No muss, no fuss.”

“Tell that to the girl,” Logan said. “She didn’t go quick. He took his time with her. That makes it personal.”

They went back to the living room, where Ross was waiting. 

“Six dead,” Logan said. “This is something out of a horror movie.”

Suddenly, there was evil laughter filling the room. The detectives looked at where the noise was coming from. A crime scene technician was next to a portable boom box, which he quickly turned off. 

“Sorry about that,” he said. “Dusting it for prints.”

“Can’t have a horror movie without that,” said Goren.

“Here’s another thing out of a horror movie,” Ross said. “There was a survivor. First officers on the scene found her a few feet away from Mallory.”

“Is she lucid?” asked Goren.

“Hardly,” Ross said. “Officers said she was freaked out. Traumatized. Probably saw the killer and what he did to her boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” asked Logan.

“When the ME checked the identification,” Ross replied, “he found a picture of Mallory and the girl together.”

“Any ID on the girl?”

“None yet, but if she’s the girlfriend, best bet is that she goes to Hudson as well. She’s on her way to University Hospital.”

Goren, Logan, and Captain Ross walked back outside. A bigger crowd was behind the crime scene tape, with some taking pictures with their cell phones.

“Six dead in one night,” Ross remarked. “Any theories?”

“Drugs?” asked Logan.

“One of the victims had a bag of coke,” Ross replied. “Not enough to kill over. Then again, this house used to belong to the Merzelas.”

“Drug dealers,” Goren said. “Part of one of the Mexican cartels, until the DEA put them out of business.”

“But slicing them open?” Logan said. “Doesn’t sound like cartels. If it was, everyone would’ve heard the gunfire.”

Another police cruiser pulled up to the scene. A man in a police captain’s uniform got out of the passenger side and came over to the other side of the yellow tape.

“Who’s in charge?” he called out.

“Over here,” Ross returned, motioning him to come over. He introduced himself and Goren and Logan.

“John Billings from the three-two,” he said. “What’s the situation here?”

“Six dead, one in the hospital.”

“And no suspects,” added Logan. 

Billings shook his head. “How the hell could something like this happen?”

Goren and Logan didn’t say anything.

“This is gonna suck,” Billings said. “Last thing this school needs is bad publicity.”

“Six dead,” Ross said. “I’d say that’s bad.”

Billings and Ross stepped aside, as Goren and Logan pondered the next move.

“Well, partner,” Goren said. “Any ideas?”

Logan said back, “Aside from trying to arrest the devil?”


	5. Chapter 5

NOVEMBER 1, 2:30 A.M., UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL

Goren and Logan took another look around the house and the property, but found nothing of consequence. 

They then headed to the University Hospital, where the lone survivor of the house massacre had been taken.

On the way over, Logan was deep in thought as Goren drove.

“Worst you’ve seen?” Goren asked.

“Maybe,” Logan replied. “There was this club fire back in ’91, where a lot of immigrants from central America died. Turns out it was arson. Guy who lit the match said he did it on orders from someone inside the INS, who was in the pocket of a Cuban businessman, and he was selling immigration cards to the victims that turned out to be phony.” He paused, then added, “I hope this doesn’t lead to someone’s public office.”

“Same,” Goren said, though some of Goren’s cases in the past have led to people in high positions, and some of them took a hard fall.

They arrived at University Hospital and quickly headed to the emergency room. The attending doctor directed the detectives to the room where the survivor had been taken. A uniformed officer was already on guard at the door.

“Have you identified her yet?” Goren asked.

“Paramedics found a student ID tucked into an inside pocket of her Halloween outfit,” the doctor said. “Her name is Donna Bradford. We’ve contacted her parents.”

“Can we talk to her?” Logan asked.

“She won’t be able to talk back,” the doctor said. “She’s out of it. Really out of it.”

“She was drugged?” 

“Her eyes are dialated, but it wasn’t an overdose. Whatever drug she took, it’s keeping her asleep.”

Logan asked “RHP?” Rohipnol was the drug of choice for those who wanted to get lucky without the girls’ consent.

“Possible,” the doctor replied. “We’ll know more when we get a tox screen back.”

The doctor left, as Goren and Logan discussed theories. 

“Someone knocked her out with RHP,” said Goren. “For obvious reasons.”

“But I can’t see the same person slicing up the others,” Logan said. “Something’s not right. If you’re going to kill someone, you don’t roofie them first. And you don’t leave them alive after killing everyone else.”

“Maybe that was the plan all along,” Goren suggested. “At least, leaving her alive.”

“What do you mean?” Though he had known Goren well in his time on the Major Case Squad, it was hard for Logan to wrap his head around Goren’s way of thinking. In fact, it was hard for anyone to wrap their head around Goren’s way of thinking.

“Someone else roofied her,” said Goren, “and someone else did all the cutting and slicing.”

“So, whose idea was it to keep her alive?”

“Maybe our killer.”

Logan asked, “So the main question is, why?”

A few minutes later, the parents of Donna Bradford came into the hospital. They were in their late fifties; the mother was blonde, turning silver haired, the father stood six feet tall, clean cut, close to regal. The detectives let them see their daughter and talk to the doctors before they decided to talk to them.

“We’re doing our best to find out who did this to her,” Logan assured them. 

Mr. Bradford said to the detectives, “Who would do this to her? Why would he kill the others and leave her be?”

“We’re still trying to figure that part out,” Goren said. “How well did you know Chris Mallory?”

“Donna’s boyfriend?” Mrs. Bradford said. “He’s the world to her. He’s the best thing that ever happened to her. Why do you ask?”

“Chris was one of the victims we found,” Logan replied. “We don’t have all the facts and we have no idea what happened that led to this.”

“I bet it’s that damn sorority,” Mr. Bradford said.

“Which one?” Logan asked.

“Kappa Delta Epsilon. I told her she shouldn’t be in a sorority.”

“It was my sorority in college,” Mrs. Bradford said. “I told it was her choice. She pledged them and they took her in as a legacy. She seemed to fit in with them.”

“There was some problems,” Mr. Bradford interjected. “There was some kind of incident, not sure what it was, last spring. Something to do with one of her housemates.”

“I think it was Allison Reece,” Mrs. Bradford said. “You know, her father is running for congress.”

Goren and Logan subtly looked at each other. Logan’s worst fear looked like it was coming true – this was leading somewhere high up.

“I don’t think Allison liked Donna to begin with,” Mr. Bradford said. “Especially since I started backing Carl Dunham, his opponent.”

“Was her boyfriend in a fraternity?” Goren asked.

“No, Chris lived in the dorms,” Mr. Bradford replied. “That’s another thing. Some of her housemates thought she shouldn’t have been dating Chris, since he wasn’t in a fraternity. You know, some of those houses don’t like you dating someone outside the Greek system.”

They asked a couple of more questions, then let the Bradfords go to be with their daughter. They reminded the doctor in attendance to let them know if and when Donna Bradford regained consciousness.

As they headed out the door of the hospital, Logan asked, “Wanna bet that girl in the devil’s costume was Allison Reece?”

“No takers here,” Goren said. “But I will bet that the other victims were part of a fraternity.”

“I’ll take that one,” Logan replied. “So, what was Chris Mallory doing up there, since he wasn’t part of a frat? And the million dollar question is still, why leave Donna alive?”

“Like I said,” Goren said, “maybe that was the killer’s plan all along.”

MEDICAL EXAMINER’S OFFICE, 4:30 A.M.

“The lady in the devil’s outfit is Allison Reece,” Dr. Rodgers said. “We also identified the other four male victims.” She read off the names: Jack Winsome, Greg Cooney, Pete Baines, and David Fulman. 

“We checked on the four,” Captain Ross said. “All are frat boys from Omega Theta Xi. It’s next door to Kappa Delta. Every Greek on campus was having a Halloween party.”  
Ross had called Goren and Logan to meet him at the M.E.’s office.

“So, some guys decided to have a little party of their own, and they all ended up dead,” Goren said. 

“Someone must not have liked not getting invited,” Logan added.

“There’s nothing significant about how they all died,” Rodgers said. “I haven’t done full autopsies yet, but my preliminaries say all six victims died the same way – they all got sliced or stabbed to death.”

The other bodies were on gurneys lining the outer hallway from the examination room. The body inside the examination room was that of Allison Reece.

“Looks like she got the worst of it,” Logan pointed out.

“She did,” Rodgers said. “I counted fifteen stab wounds. Whoever killed her wanted her to suffer and big time.”

“All the others were quickly killed, yet the killer took his time with her,” said Goren. He scanned the body. “I’m guessing she was the target of all that rage.”

“What about Chris Mallory?” Ross asked.

“Stabbed to death, like the others,” Rodger replied. “The only thing is that he fought back.”

“First officers said that they heard a scream when they were outside,” Ross said. “Mallory must have been killed right about then, as Donna was trying to regain consciousness.”

“Hell of a thing to wake up to,” Logan said. He then added, “The scream and the cops showing up must have spooked the killer. That’s why he left her alive.”

“Something doesn’t fit right,” Goren said. “The way they were all killed.”

“How so?” asked Rodgers.

“The first few were killed quick,” he pointed out. “And with Allison, he took his time, made her suffer, had all that rage in him. Then he gets into a fight with Mallory before finishing him off.”

“Maybe he got tired,” Logan said. “Mallory fighting back caught him by surprise.”

“That’s just it, he fought back,” Goren said to Logan. “One of the victims had a gun tucked in his waistband. Someone’s coming at you with a knife, and you have a gun. Why don’t you pull your gun out?”

“He must have thought it was a fellow frat brother,” Logan said. “It was someone he thought he knew.”

“Someone he must not have perceived him as a threat. Even if he did see the knife.”

“But Mallory must have known him,” Logan said. “That, or he caught him by surprise.”

“So they all got killed but Donna,” Ross said. “Why?”

“Goren thinks that may have been the killer’s plan all along,” Logan said.

“What do you think?” Ross asked Logan.

Logan looked at Goren. “I think you don’t kill six people and leave someone alive unless you have a really good reason.”

Goren and Logan left the autopsy room, leaving Captain Ross and Dr. Rodgers alone. 

Rodgers asked, “Those two are working together?” 

“Wasn’t my idea,” Ross said.

“So who drives who crazy first?”

Ross asked, “Me or them?”

******************************************

Frank Reece, the senate candidate, was called by the police at 3 a.m. about the death of his daughter Allison. At 4 a.m., he went down to the medical examiner’s office and identified Allison as his daughter. Captain Ross was there, and he did best to console the man, and assure him that the police will do everything to catch the person or persons responsible.

At his campaign headquarters later that morning, a grieving Reece filled his staff in on what happened to his daughter. 

After he informed his staff of what happened, Reece sat in his office, alone. For a few minutes, he cried, thinking back to all the good times he had with Allison. Her first communion. Her first bicycle ride. A trip to Walt Disney World in Florida. The father-daughter dance. All those happy memories. All before….all before she changed.  
At nine o’clock that morning, Reece was in his office with his son Alan, discussing how to handle this to the media, with election day so close. The campaign lawyer, Michael Layne, and Reece’s campaign manager Don Bolton, and the head of security, William Keating, came inside.

“We have a problem,” Keating said.

“What kind of problem?” Reece demanded.

“This,” Layne said. He placed a tape recorder down on Reece’s desk. “This is a recording from last night.” Layne pushed play on the recorder.

Forty-five seconds later, the recording ended. Everyone in the room looked at Reece. He looked as if he was going to explode.

“My God,” muttered Alan. “What the hell…”

“Who else has heard this?” Reece asked. 

“We’re the only ones,” Bolton replied.

“Make a copy.”

“Already done,” Layne said. “Two of them.”

“Good,” Reece said angrily, trying to keep his temper in check. “That bastard’s gonna pay for what he did.”

*********************************

That morning, Goren went to his desk at the Major Case Headquarters, going over the preliminary crime scene reports from the Merzela house. Logan went to a back room and caught a few minutes of sleep.

Logan returned to the squad room and found Goren going through the reports. 

“Don’t you ever sleep?” Logan asked him. 

“Six dead, how can anyone sleep?” Goren returned.

“Good point.”

Ross came out of his office and up to Goren and Logan. “There’s a press conference at 11 o’clock,” he announced to them. “Be ready for the vultures.”

“You want us at the podium with you?” Logan asked.

Ross nodded. “The Chief of Detectives will be there too. So will Billings.”

The press conference at One Police Plaza began at eleven o’clock. It ended when Frank Reece came in and accused Captain John Billings of collusion in the murders of his daughter and the others at the Merzela house.


	6. Chapter 6

John Muldrew, the Chief of Detectives for the New York City Police Department, slammed the door as he came into Ross’ office. Ross, Goren, Logan, and Captain Billings, were inside the office as well. Muldrew was present at the press conference, and stayed clear of the melee between Billings and Reece. Now, he just wanted answers. 

“What the hell just happened in there!?” he demanded.

“We were just accused of collusion in the murder of six college students,” Logan replied. “That pretty much sums it up.”

“Not the entire department,” Ross pointed out, “but it’s going to come off like that.”

“Is there any truth to what he said?” Muldrew demanded.

“I hope not,” Ross said. “But he’s a grieving father. He has every right to be very upset.”

“But to accuse the police of collusion in a mass murder?” asked Goren. “That’s a bit much.”

“Still, he made that accusation, and in front of the media as well,” Muldrew said. He looked at Captain Billings, as did everyone else in the room. “Is there any truth to what Reece said?”

“Hell no!” Billings quickly responded. “I don’t know what made him think that!”

“Have the two of you had problems before?” Goren asked.

Billings looked like he was going to explode hearing that question. Instead, he answered, “Actually, we have. His daughter got busted for drunk and disorderly when she was a freshman, and he tried to make it go away.”

“How?” Muldrew asked.

“The old-fashioned way,” Billings replied angrily. “A handshake with a bunch of hundred dollar bills. I turned him down, and the D and D stayed on Allison’s record.” Then in a calmer voice, he added, “He hasn’t exactly forgotten that. He thought I should be his daughter’s personal cleaner whenever she got in trouble.”

Ross asked, “So, what is this evidence that he has on you?”

“I don’t know,” Billings replied.

Logan said, “Whatever it is, Reece is probably handing it over to Internal Affairs right now.” 

“Find out if he has a spare copy,” Ross said. 

Goren and Logan left the office, leaving Ross with Muldrew and Billings.

“This is a nightmare and a half,” Muldrew said. He said to Billings, “Go back to your precinct, and find out what happened.”

Billings nodded and left the room.

“Chief, we’ll do our best to find out what happened,” Ross said.

“I know you will,” Muldrew said. Then he added, “Goren and Logan? They’re together on this?”

“The way it worked out,” Ross said.

Muldrew shook his head disbelievingly. “For a second there, I thought Logan was going to clock Reece just like he did that other guy twelve years ago.”

“If he did,” said Ross, “this time, the brass would’ve given him a medal.”

***************************************

Frank Reece and his staff was in the lobby of One Police Plaza when Goren and Logan caught up to them. Reece wasn’t too happy to see them, but he was going to be civil.

“What is this evidence that says Captain Billings was involved in these murders?” asked Logan.

“It’s right here,” Billings said, pulling out a compact disc from his coat pocket. The disc itself was in a sleeve. “You can have this. This will prove I’m right.”

Goren took the CD. “You don’t like Billings’, do you?”

“The man’s a jerk,” Reece said. “Probably thinks the same of me.” 

No argument there, Logan thought. “Look, Mr. Reece,” he said, “we’ll look for those who did this.”

“Detective, I know he’s one of your guys,” Reece said, “but what he did, is inexcusable. I want him kicked off the force.”

“What exactly did he do?” Goren asked.

“While my daughter was getting gutted by some psycho, he told his officers not to respond.”

A superior officer telling his subordinates not to respond to an emergency call. Both Goren and Logan knew that was not only dereliction of duty, but also one sure fire way to get suspended or fired.

“It’s all there,” said Reece.

“What, you bugged the phones in the 32nd precinct?” Logan asked.

“No,” Reece said. “I was keeping tabs on my daughter. I have her calls on her cell monitored. If she called someone, I would know who she talked to.”

“So you bugged her phone,” Logan said. “That’s very Big Brother of you.”

One of his men stepped in front of Reece. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m Michael Layne, his attorney. We’ll cooperate, but for now, Mr. Reece has to go and meet with his constituents.” With that, Reece and his staff left the lobby and headed out the door.

Goren and Logan looked at the disc in Goren’s hand. “I wonder what’s on this?” Goren asked.

“I’m pretty sure Billings wants to hear it.”

***********************************

But first, Goren, Logan and Ross listened to the recording first in Ross’ office.

After they listened to the call, Ross stopped the recording. “How did that get construed as a practical joke?” he asked.

“That boom box in the house,” Logan said. “It had a recording of laughter, the kind you have in a haunted house. I heard it at the house.”

“So that gets heard, and what? Billings tells his officers don’t respond to a bunch of people getting killed?”

“Play the recording again,” Goren said.

Ross pressed play, and they all listened again to Allison Reece’s cries for help. After listening to it again, Goren said, “Is it me, or is that someone else instead of Billings? His voice sounds a little more rougher.”

“You know, Goren’s right,” Logan said. “It doesn’t exactly sound like Billings. And another thing, why did she call Billings directly, not 9-1-1?”

Goren said, “Maybe Frank Reece really did bug the phones at the three-two.”

NOVEMBER 2, 32ND PRECINCT

Billings listened to the recording from the Halloween night call. He was in his office, along with Goren and Logan. After doing so, he said to them, “That’s not me.”

“Any idea who it is?” asked Logan.

“I think so.” Billings got on his desk phone and asked for Don Worland, the desk sergeant, to come into his office.

“What is it, boss?” Worland asked.

Goren pushed play on the recorder, and the distress call from the Merzela house filled the office. When it was done, Goren pushed the stop button. Everyone looked at Worland.

“What about it?” the sergeant asked.

“Was that you who took that call?” Billings asked, trying to keep himself in check.

“So, what if it was?” 

“What were you doing in my office anyway?” 

“You were out,” Worland said. “I came in and put some reports on your desk. That’s when the phone rang. I answered it, and this girl starts screaming that people are getting killed, and I hear people laughing in the background.”

Goren and Logan wouldn’t blame Billings for jumping out of his seat, and throttling Sergeant Worland right then and there.

Billings said, “You told that girl you had no time for practical jokes, and let her get sliced up by some nut job?”

“I thought it was a practical joke,” Worland said angrily.

“A practical joke!?” Billings exclaimed. “Six people get killed and you thought it was a gag?”

“I heard laughter in the background!”

“It was a recording,” Logan said, finding himself wanting to clock Worland as much as Billings. “The laughter was fake!”

“How was I supposed to know?”

“You could’ve asked,” Goren said snarkily.

“Hey, it was Halloween!” Worland insisted. “We were getting prank calls all night, especially from the university. Everyone was getting drunk and they didn’t care! Patrol cars go out to calls, and there’s nothing there. It happens every Halloween!”

“Except this Halloween was different,” Goren said. Everyone in the room angrily looked at Worland. 

“I didn’t know!” Worland insisted. “I thought it was a prank! A practical joke! A gag!”

Logan walked up to Worland, trying his best not to deck the sergeant.

“Six people are dead,” he angrily said to Worland. “Do you see anybody in this room laughing?”


	7. Chapter 7

FRANK REECE’S CAMPAIGN HEADQUARTERS  
NOVEMBER 2

“You mean to tell me my daughter is dead because some desk cop was having a bad night?” said Frank Reece, after hearing about who actually answered the phone in John Billings’ office on Halloween night.

“It appears that way,” Goren said. “The review board and Internal Affairs will be speaking with Sergeant Worland soon.”

Goren and Logan were at Reece’s campaign headquarters in Manhattan.

“And my daughter’s murderer is still out there.”

“We are going through the evidence,” Logan said. “But there’s one thing I don’t understand. Why did Allison call Billings’ office directly and not 9-1-1?”

“I got Billings’ phone number and had my daughter put it on cell phone last year,” Reece said. “I told her to call him or me directly if anything bad happened. This way, it would be done very quietly, under the radar.”

“Why?” Goren asked. “We know about the two of you not liking each other over her drunk and disorderly arrest, and how you tried to make it go away.”

“I was just a father trying to take care of her daughter,” Reece said. 

“With a handshake of hundred dollar bills?”

“I take the fifth,” Reece said. The cops in the room knew he wasn’t the first parent who tried to use his influence or money to make something go away, nor would he be the last.

Logan asked, “Anyway, do you think this might be personal, someone killed your daughter to get to you?” 

“What for?” Reece returned. “I’m out there for all the world to see. Why go after my daughter?”

“Because she was a narcissistic, conniving, power hungry, disobedient bitch!” Reece’s son Alan came into the office. 

“Alan!”

“I’m sorry, dad,” Alan said, “but they might as well know the truth. Allison was stuck up and mean to anyone she didn’t like, which was basically the rest of the world. Asking her to be nice was nearly impossible.”

“So, you’re saying anyone could’ve killed her,” Goren said.

“Anyone on that campus,” Alan replied. “Lots of guys asked her out, and she’d send some goon after them to make sure they didn’t ask twice. She’d be mean to anyone who wasn’t as snotty or bitchy as her. I know I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but she may have brought this upon herself.”

“And five others just happened to be collateral damage,” said Logan. 

“I doubt that,” Alan said. 

“We heard that the girl who survived, Donna,” Logan said, “her father backed your father’s opponent. That must have made her really happy.”

“I told her just let it go,” Reece said.

“Like that ever happened,” Alan said. “Her and Donna didn’t like each other. At least, Allison didn’t like Donna. Thought she was too much of a goody two shoe to be in the sorority. From what I heard, Allison thought Donna was both a virgin of body and mind.”

Goren and Logan looked at each other. Alan might be like his father one day, the way he just talked out of both sides of his mouth about his sister.

One of Reece’s men came into the office. “Frank, I need some signatures on some checks,” he said.

“He’ll be there soon, Don,” Alan said. Don left.

“That was Don Bolton,” Frank Reece said to the detectives. “He handles the purse strings for the campaign. Look, I have an appearance to make over in Queens. Thanks for keeping me updated. I’ll try to make myself available if you need anything else.”

The men shook hands, and Goren and Logan left Reece’s campaign headquarters.

“He still hates Billings,” Logan said. “But at least Reece knows he wasn’t on the other end of Allison’s phone call.” They were walking in downtown Manhattan.

“But he is right about one thing,” Goren said. “The killer is still out there. But who was he really after?”

“You thought it was Allison,” Logan pointed out. 

“I still do. But what about the others?”

“Chris Mallory was Donna’s boyfriend. From what we could tell, he was the last one killed. And he fought back.”

“And the others didn’t. Because they didn’t perceive a threat from him.”

Logan said, “Michael Myers is coming at you with a butcher’s knife and you don’t consider him a threat? That’s a waste of a college education. You know, maybe the others were just collateral damage, and Allison was the intended victim all along.”

“But something doesn’t fit,” Goren said. “Chris Mallory. Donna’s parents said he wasn’t in a fraternity.”

Logan thought about that. “And the other four victims were.”

Goren chuckled. “You’re beginning to think like me.”

“Not too much, I hope,” Logan returned.

******************************

Back at One Police Plaza, Goren and Logan went through the autopsy report from the medical examiners’ office. All the victims of the Halloween night massacre were killed by the same knife; the fatal wounds on the four frat boys came very quickly, coming on major arteries, their deaths coming in a matter of seconds.

The deaths of Allison Reece and Chris Mallory were quite different. According to Dr. Rodgers’ findings, Reece was stabbed multiple times, fifteen in total, as her assailant was pretty much on top of her. There was some skin underneath her fingernails, but not enough for a DNA comparison.

As for Chris Mallory, there were bruises on his knuckles to show that he gotten in a fight with his assailant. The wound courtesy of the knife in his chest was fatal, severing one of the arteries to his heart.

There was also a forensic report. The red paint used to make the pentagram on the floor of the house was found on the back of the angelic Halloween dress worn by Donna Bradford, showing that she had been on top of the painted area and moved from the living room to the room where she had been found.

“So, our killer gets rid of everyone there,” Logan said, “then drags Donna out of the room. He’s about to finish her off, when Chris shows up. Fight breaks out, Chris ends up the loser.”

“Or maybe the killer was trying to get Donna out of there,” Goren countered, “Mallory shows up, he gets the wrong idea, and then the fight breaks out.” 

Logan shook his head. “I can’t get past the fact that you kill six people, and leave one alive on purpose.”

“Maybe it was an oversight, or he got spooked,” Goren said. “Besides, the cops were just outside when they heard Donna scream.”

“Still, knowing that there’s a witness out there, whether she actually saw anything or not, is still a big risk,” Logan said. “She’s definitely in danger.”

Goren called up University Hospital. The doctor on the other end said that Donna Bradford was still unconscious, though the rohipnol had been purged from her system.

“Donna Bradford is still out of it,” Goren said to Logan.

“I say we go to college,” Logan suggested. “Find out what happened from their friends.”

******************************************

The young man walked down the corridor to where the policeman stood guard. He wore a non-descript jacket over his shirt and jeans.

The officer saw him coming just as the hospital door opened. Mr. Bradford stepped out, as the young man walked up to him.

“Mr. Bradford?” he asked.

The officer was about to step between them when Mr. Bradford waved him off. “It’s okay,” he said to him. He looked at the young man. “What can I do for you, son?”

“Well, sir,” he said, “I have a class with Donna, and I heard about what happened, and I just want to know she’s okay.”

“She is,” Mr. Bradford replied. “And you are?”

“Joey Doyle.”

“Well, Joey, I’ll let her know when she’s feeling better.”

“Thank you, sir.” Joey Doyle turned around and headed back down the corridor. Neither him or Mr. Bradford noticed someone was watching just a few feet away.

The man, the age of a college student, got out his cell phone and made a call.

“Hey, Derek….no she’s still out cold….But guess who just stopped by to see how she’s doing?”


	8. Chapter 8

HUDSON UNIVERSITY  
GREEK ROW  
NOVEMBER 2

Goren and Logan pulled the SUV up to the Kappa Delta Epsilon sorority house. The Omega Theta Xi fraternity house was situated next door.

In driving up to Greek Row, the detectives had passed by some of the dormitories. Some students, with the help of their parents, were loading cars full of their stuff, presumably to go home.

Goren and Logan got out of the car, and started walking towards the Kappa house. 

“Ever been inside a sorority?” Goren asked Logan.

“To the point where some of the girls wanted to keep me,” Logan replied with a chuckle. 

As they approached the sorority, two big men, bigger than the average college students, ran over and got in front of them. One of them wore a shirt with the Omega Theta Xi insignia on it.

“Where do you think you’re going?” one of them demanded.

“Inside,” Logan said, holding up his badge. “Step aside.”

“The hell I will,” the goon said, balling up a fist.

“What’s the matter?” Goren asked. “Dope make you dumber than you usually are?”

“You’re not going in there.” The goon in question was about six-two, had a blonde crew cut, and looked like he could keep the breweries in business. Still, he was an inch or two shorter than Goren.

“Last I checked, you don’t belong to that sorority,” Logan said. “But don’t worry, we’ll talk to you and your housemates when we’re done with them.”

The goon took one step closer to Logan. “Cop or no cop, you’re not going in there!” he insisted.

“Derek!” someone yelled out from the front of the Kappa house. It was a young woman, a short haired blonde. “Let ‘em through!”

“Derek?” Goren quipped. “I thought your name might be Biff. Does he look like a Biff to you, Logan?”

“Biff, maybe,” Logan said back, as they walked past them. “I was thinking he’s more of a Richard.”

“Richard?”

“You know….Dick.” Logan said it loud enough so Derek would hear it.

Goren and Logan walked up to the young woman, and introduced themselves.

“I’m Shannon Dutton, the head of the sorority,” she said. “Come on in.”

Goren glanced back as they walked in. The frat boy goon, Derek, was eyeing them menacingly.

“Sorry about that,” Shannon said. “It’s been a crappy past couple of days here on campus.”

“So we noticed,” Logan returned. “We can’t imagine what this campus is going through.”

“Well, here’s the reality,” Shannon said, leading them into a common living room. “Everyone on campus is on edge, totally freaked out.” She sat down on a chair, which was next to a coffee table. “A couple of people I know are going home, no questions asked by their parents. They don’t want to be the next victim of any campus psycho. Can’t say that I blame them.” 

There was a bottle of vodka on the table along with a glass, which Shannon filled and took a healthy swig.

“Of course, there’s the police,” Shannon continued, “who didn’t lift a finger to help because they think we’re a bunch of drunken rich kids messing with them. Everyone on Greek Row is pissed at them over what happened last spring.” She took another big sip of vodka as she looked at Goren and Logan. “No offense. I know it wasn’t you two.”

“None taken,” Logan said.

“Aside from all that,” Shannon said, “it’s all peachy keen.” She took another big swig of vodka, draining the glass. “How’s Donna?”

“Donna’s fine,” Goren said. “Unconscious but alive.”

“We like to ask you some questions about who might have done this to your friends,” Logan said.

“Be careful of how you use that word ‘friend’ around here,” Shannon warned. “People don’t take it seriously.”

“Were you friends with Donna and Allison?” Goren asked. “You’re all in the same sorority.”

“Housemates, sorority sisters, we were that,” Shannon replied. “Friends? Donna, yes. Allison, I’ve been wondering why I was, if we ever were.”

“I take it you and Allison didn’t get along,” Logan said.

“Friends, not really. We just put up with each other. Though, if Allison was alive, this would’ve been the last straw.”

“Because of what?”

“She didn’t like Donna,” Shannon said. “I mean, she really didn’t like her. Allison thought Donna didn’t belong in the Kappas. But since Donna’s mother was a former member, she came in as a legacy. We just didn’t think Donna would be so…so…straight laced.”

“And you let her in anyway?” Logan asked.

“Honestly, she didn’t fit in,” Shannon said, “legacy or not. But she gave us a breath of fresh air. She was a cool, open, honest person.”

“So what was her problem?” Goren asked. “Was she too straight laced?”

“At times, yes” Shannon replied. “But she was a nice girl. Something this house needed. You know, frats and sororities have been in the news for all the wrong reasons.”

“Such as?” Goren asked.

“We don’t have any minorities and supposedly don’t want any, we’re all sleeping with convicted felons or our professors, we don’t take our grades seriously, only our drinking,” Shannon pointed out. “That sort of thing. Now this happens. A bunch of spoiled brats from Greek Row get killed, the cops didn’t feel like responding, and people are gonna say it’s our own damn fault and we deserved it.” She poured another shot of vodka into the glass. 

“The worst may be yet to come,” Logan said. “If Allison and Donna didn’t like each other, what were they doing with each other on Halloween night?”

Shannon downed the vodka. “I don’t know,” she said. “It couldn’t possibly be any good.”

“It wasn’t any good,” Logan said. “Donna was roofied when the cops found her.”

Shannon stopped cold and looked at the detectives. “Oh my God,” she said. Shannon looked she wanted to reach for the bottle, but didn’t. “After we all heard about what happened, a couple of the girls said that Donna wasn’t feeling too good at the Halloween party. I didn’t know that Allison had taken her to that house.”

“Sounds like Donna got spiked here,” Goren said. 

Allison shook her head. “I had no idea,” she said, reaching for the bottle, but Goren got there first and pulled it away from her. “Good heavens, what did Allison do?”

“We don’t know, but like you said,” Logan said, “nothing good.”

“Do you think the Omega boys had something to do with it?” Goren asked.

“Wouldn’t put it past them,” Shannon replied. “They’re already on probation, just like us.”

“I heard something about that,” Logan said. “Something about some incident last spring. What exactly happened?”

Shannon looked at the bottle, and realized that Goren wasn’t going to hand it back unless she told them what happened. She took a breath and started talking.

“There was this guy, Joey Doyle,” she said. “He was in one of Donna’s classes last semester. He would come around once in a while to see Donna. It was obvious that he kinda liked her, even though I think he already knew she was already going out with Chris.

“Anyway, he comes by one day, but Donna’s not around,” Shannon continued. “A couple of the Omega boys spot him, and go up and grab him. They’re kind of our unofficial bodyguards, being next door and all. They don’t like boys who aren’t in the frats hanging around girls who are. They drag him into the bushes between our houses, and a few minutes later, they shove him back out in the street, butt naked. Their little warning for him not to come back.”

“I take it that wasn’t the end of it,” Logan said.

“It wasn’t,” Shannon said. “The next day, campus security and the local cops come around and roust both our houses. I didn’t know about what the Omega boys did until after it happened. So, campus security comes down hard on both of us, and the dean of students hits us with probation.”

“I’m guessing Joey Doyle has friends or relatives on the force,” Goren said.

“Nothing like that,” Shannon said. “But the dean of students was looking to make an example of the Omega house for the past couple of years, and this got handed to him on a silver platter. Then, we heard that it was Allison’s idea for the Omega boys to go after Joey. And if that wasn’t enough, apparently, Donna talked to the cops about what happened to Joey. I’m not sure about what she said to the cops, but some of the girls didn’t like that. Especially Allison.

“For the next two weeks, the cops had cars roaming Greek Row, making sure everyone was behaving,” Shannon continued. “I couldn’t believe it. All because the boys next door made some guy walk butt naked back to his dorm.”

Logan said, “Next time, just ask the guy to leave.”

Goren placed the bottle back on the table. Shannon quickly took it and looked like she was going to pour another shot, but didn’t, and placed the bottle down.

“Better still,” Goren said, “get better friends.”

“Do you think the Omega boys are in the mood to talk to us?” Logan asked.

“Doubt it,” Allison said, “but go for it. I sure like to know what the hell happened over there.”

“Exactly that,” Goren said. “Hell.”


	9. Chapter 9

Goren and Logan walked out of the Kappa sorority. As expected, Derek Pratt, along with a couple of guys from the Omega fraternity were waiting out front.

“Hi guys,” Logan sarcastically said. “We’re done with them. Now it’s your turn.”

“Screw you,” Pratt said.

“What’s the matter?” Goren asked. “Are you drunk, stupid, or both?”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to know who killed his friends,” Logan said.

Pratt looked at Logan, as if he wanted to take a swing at him. “I already know who killed them,” Pratt said. “The cops. You guys.”

“Your opinion,” Logan said back. 

“So, what were your friends doing up there anyway?” Goren asked. “Were you there?”

“We were all having a good time,” Pratt answered. “But I was here with the Kappa girls. Ask anyone.”

“Did you know your friends doped up a girl so they could rape her?”

“Excuse me?” Pratt didn’t like the hint of the accusation.

“You heard me,” Goren said to him. “You see a girl, think she’s easy, but she’s not, plus she already has a boyfriend. So you get close to her, spike her drink, then when she’s out of it, you take her away to have some fun – “ Goren stopped, waiting for a reaction from Pratt. None. Then he said, “And that’s when it all goes to hell.”

“Next thing you know, four of your fellow frat brothers are dead,” finished Logan. “And the guy’s still out there.”

“Don’t worry,” one of the frat boys next to Pratt said. “We can take care of him.”

“Famous last words,” Logan said.

“What, do you know who did it?” Goren asked.

That question seemed to take Omega boys aback. Something subtle from Goren’s book of psychological tricks.

“If we find out,” Pratt said, “we’ll take care of him, like we said.”

“Yeah, and then we’ll see you at your funeral,” Logan said. “Or booking you for murder.” With that, Goren and Logan turned and walked away.

“Do you think they know who did it?” Logan asked Goren.

“I don’t think so,” Goren replied. “They may have an idea of who did. But if they admit to that, they’ll be hanging themselves. They’ll have to admit they doped up Donna and planned to have their way with her.”

“You think the killer knew what was going to happen?” Logan asked.

“It would explain why he left Donna alive,” Goren replied. “At least partly.”

They walked a little more, then Logan said, “Wanna talk to Joey Doyle? Maybe he can shed some light on what happened.”

“What for?” Goren asked.

“Maybe he had a reason to kill the Omega boys and Allison Reece.”

*************************************************

Joey Doyle lived in one of the dorms on campus. Goren and Logan got his address from the registrar’s office and headed there.

Once there, they knocked on the door. At first nothing. Then the door slightly opened.

“Yes?”

Logan held up his badge to the opening. “Police. Open up.”

The door opened up. Joey Doyle stood there, holding the door open to the detectives. He stood about five-foot eight, was slender, and had a tousle of dark brown hair. His face seemed misshaped and out of sorts. Pretty much, he was what one would call a geek.

Goren and Logan introduced themselves to Doyle. “What can I do for you?” Doyle asked.

“We’re investigating the murders that happened off campus,” Logan said. “We understand that you knew some of the victims.”

“Yeah, I did,” Doyle said.

“Same guys who made you walk across campus naked?”

Doyle turned away, both out of anger and embarrassment. He then said, “They made it sound like it was my fault.”

“No one’s blaming you,” Goren said, as they entered the dorm room. “But it seems like to me that you came out ahead.” As they came inside, Logan noticed a mountain bike propped up against the wall. It looked fairly new, and made from titanium. 

Doyle turned back to face Goren. “How so?”

“You’re still here. Anyone else would’ve run off.”

“Well, I didn’t. But it still pisses me off they got off easy.”

“Both the Kappa house and the Omega house are on probation,” Logan said. “Thanks to Donna, from what we understand.”

“Yeah, I thanked her for that,” Doyle said. “Still, it wasn’t enough.”

“You’re friends with her?” Goren asked. “We know you had classes with her.”

“I am and we did,” Doyle replied. “She was nice, not like that bitch Allison Reece.”

“That seems to be the consensus about her,” Logan said. “Did you know Donna’s boyfriend?”

“I do,” Doyle said. “Chris Mallory. He’s not a jerk like the Omega guys. He’s pretty cool.”

“He was her boyfriend,” Logan corrected. “He was one of the victims.”

“Really?”

“You seemed surprised,” Goren said. “That he was Donna’s boyfriend or that he’s dead?”

“Dead,” Doyle replied. “I already knew he was her boyfriend. Maybe one of those guys from the Omega house killed him.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t hassle Chris for dating Donna, since he’s not on Greek Row,” Logan said.

“They did once,” Joey said. “Once. I don’t know the whole story, but I heard one of the Omega guys tell Chris that Donna was a Kappa girl, and therefore, Omega property. Chris decked him in front of the Omega house. The Omega boys didn’t like that, but they left Chris and Donna alone after that. Apparently, when it comes to Donna, they didn’t mess with Chris.”

While Joey was talking, Goren glanced down at Joey’s hands. The left hand was clean. The right hand looked bruised.

“So you have no idea what happened that night?” asked Goren.

“No, not a bit,” Joey replied.

“Just so we know,” Logan said, “where were you Halloween night?”

“Out and about,” Joey replied. “I went to Greek Row but I didn’t stick around too long. I didn’t feel like walking around naked again, especially in the cold.”

“So you never saw Donna.”

“No I didn’t.”

“So, basically, you have no alibi,” Goren pointed out.

“I don’t. But I’m not shedding any tears over them. They may not have deserved that, but they were a bunch of jerks.” Then Joey said, “Except Allison. She was a bitch.”

“That’s what everyone seems to be saying,” Logan said.

“We’ll be in touch,” Goren said. 

The two left the dorm room. As they walked down the hall to the elevator, Goren said to Logan, “Did you notice his hands?”

“Kind of,” Logan replied. “Right hand was bruised.”

“As if he got into a fight.”

“So, which hand do you think he was holding the knife in?”

“Right,” said Goren. “Probably hit Chris while he was holding it before he stabbed him.”

“If he did it,” Logan said. “Doyle doesn’t look strong enough to overpower anybody and then kill them.”

“If he had enough rage and anger, maybe.”

Logan finished the thought. “Especially if somebody made him walk across campus naked. By the way, did you see the new bike in there? Looked kind of pricey for a college kid.”   
He then asked, “Do you think he was obsessed with Donna?” If anyone knew if someone else was not all there in the head, it would be Goren.

“Didn’t seem that way,” Goren replied. “Then again, it’s not as easy to spot them these days.” 

Before leaving the dorm, Goren and Logan randomly asked a couple of the students if they knew Joey Doyle and if they saw him Halloween night. Some of them said they knew him, but didn’t seem him around the dorm on Halloween night. One student said he did see Joey around eleven o’clock that night, looking a little out of it but otherwise fine. No one said he was wearing a costume of any kind.

Goren and Logan left the dormitory. As they did, someone was watching close by, not bothering to make himself scarce. He took out his cell phone and dialed a number.

***************************************

Derek Pratt was inside the living room of the Kappa Delta sorority. “So, what did you tell them?” he demanded from Shannon.

“Nothing,” Shannon said back, the glass in her hand. “Because there was nothing to tell. Allison’s dead and she brought it upon herself.”

“That’s crap.”

“That’s life.” Shannon reached for the vodka bottle, but Derek grabbed it first.

“What the hell did you tell the cops?!” Derek angrily demanded.

“Why the hell do you care?” Allison said back, fighting off the buzz of the vodka. “You never liked Chris. Besides, what the hell were you guys doing anyway?”

“Hey, four of my frat buddies are dead, and so is Allison!”

“Allison wasn’t my friend,” Shannon snapped back. “She may have been my sorority sister, but that was it. All I care about is that the cops find who did this.”

“And what about Donna?”

“If she wants to come back, she can,” Shannon said. “If she doesn’t, I wouldn’t blame her.”

Derek put the bottle back down and left. Shannon didn’t reach for it. She didn’t feel like drinking anymore, because it still wouldn’t numb the pain of what had happened.

But she couldn’t help but wonder….what was Allison doing with Donna, and what did Derek know about it?

Derek exited the Kappa sorority just as his cell phone rang. “Hello?....” he answered. “Yeah, Cade, what happened?....The cops left Joey’s dorm?.....And?.... Thanks….Let me know when Joey leaves. Then maybe me and him can have a little talk…..”


	10. Chapter 10

NOVEMBER 2  
ONE POLICE PLAZA  
5:45 P.M.

Goren and Logan went back to One Police Plaza and ran some names through the data base, checking for prior arrests. 

For Shannon Dutton, none. She came from old money, as her family made it in stocks and commodities trading. 

For Derek Pratt, lots. Three separate counts of misdemeanor assault; the first two because he didn’t like anyone talking to his girlfriend, the last came when his girlfriend dumped him for being so overly possessive. He had a football scholarship to Syracuse University, but lost it with his last arrest.

Joey Doyle was charged with indecent exposure because of the Omega’s making him walk naked out of Greek Row. He was fined, but that was all. His family was blue collar, with his father working on the docks.

Logan then called Hudson University for the university’s report on the Omega’s and Kappa’s probation. Half an hour later, a ten page report was faxed over from the school.

According to the report, the Omega Theta Xi had displayed “offensive and unruly behavior” unbecoming towards to the university; the incident with Joey Doyle just happened to be the last straw. The fraternity was hit with probation, with the threat of losing their charter if the pattern of bad behavior continued. The Kappa sorority was put on the probation alongside them for going along with the Omega’s behavior regarding Joey Doyle but was tempered because of Donna speaking up in defense of the sorority. 

“From where I’m sitting,” Logan said to Goren, “maybe some of the Kappa girls thought Donna sold them down the river by speaking up for the house.”

“Makes sense,” Goren said back. “Donna speaks up, says we’re not all like that. They still get hit with probation, though not as hard. Still Allison doesn’t like it.”

“So, then what?” asked Logan. “Someone drops a roofie on Donna, takes her away, plans to have their way with her – “

“And six people get killed for it?” finished Goren. “Somewhere along the line, something changed.”

Logan said, “Yeah, the devil.”

Captain Ross came out of his office, and went straight to Goren and Logan. “Any news?” he asked.

“Just a lot of people who think Allison Reece got what she deserved,” Logan replied.

“And a lot of other people who acting like they’re hiding something,” added Goren.

“Well, I just got off the phone with the commissioner,” Ross said. “Internal Affairs has been talking with Sergeant Worland. It doesn’t look good for him.”\

“Well, thinking six people getting killed as a practical joke is not funny,” Logan said.

“No clue as to who the killer is?” Ross asked.

“No, but it looks our victims were doing something very bad at the time they were getting killed,” Logan replied. “And their friends are covering it up, or had no clue what was going on.”

“My guess is that Shannon Dutton had no clue what was going on,” Goren said. “Derek Pratt, not so much.”

“Remind me to send my sons to a different college when they get older,” Ross said, “and not join a fraternity.” 

The phone rang on Logan’s desk. “Detective Logan,” he said. He suddenly perked up. “Really? That’s great! We’ll be right over.”

“Who was that?” Goren asked as Logan hung up the phone.

“University Hospital,” Logan replied, standing up from his desk and throwing on his coat. “Donna Bradford just woke up.”

****************************************

UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL  
NOVEMBER 2  
6:23 P.M.

Goren and Logan went straight to Donna Bradford’s room, only to be stopped by the doctor in charge, Doctor Dizon.

“She woke up about an hour ago,” the doctor said. “She had a lot of rohipnol in her system, more than double what is usual. She drifted in and out of consciousness for a while. It took some time for it to purge from her system.”

“Sounds like someone didn’t want her waking up too soon,” Goren said. 

“How lucid is she?” Logan asked. “We need to ask her some questions.”

“Fairly lucid,” Doctor Dizon replied. “Her parents are with her right now.”

Dr. Dizon led Goren and Logan into the room. Donna Bradford was pale but awake, with her parents at her bedside.

“We never stopped praying, princess,” her father said. “Thank the Lord that you’re finally awake.”

“Mister and Mrs. Bradford,” Goren said to them. “We need to speak with your daughter.”

“Can’t this wait?” Mrs. Bradford asked.

“I’m afraid it can’t,” Logan said. “The person who committed these murders is still out there.”

Donna’s parents looked at her, and she nodded her approval. She looked like she wanted to know what happened to her as much as Goren and Logan.

Goren asked, “Donna, what’s the last thing you remember about Halloween night?”

Donna replied, “I was at the Kappa house, I was in my costume, and I was waiting for Chris, my boyfriend. We were going to this harvest party put on by our campus church.”

“Harvest party?” Logan asked.

“It’s like a Halloween celebration, except you can’t show up as anything demonic,” Donna replied. “You know, devils, demons, witches, and the like. You can’t even go as one of the characters from ‘Twilight.’

“Anyway, everyone else at the sorority was already getting drunk and wasted, by eight o’clock,” she continued. “I was having a Pepsi and waiting for Chris. I don’t know how it happened, but I began to feel sick and dizzy. That’s when I realized I got drugged. I tried to call Chris on my cell, but I couldn’t get a hold of him.

“The last thing I remember before I passed out, was that someone was helping me out,” she said. “After that…” Donna’s voice trailed off. The look on her face said that she was trying to remember something else, but remembering it would be a lot worse than suppressing it.

“Do you remember anything else?” Logan asked.

Donna’s face began to turn a little pale. She was remembering something, something bad about that night that was going to hurt either way.

“Donna, we know you regained consciousness for a little bit at the house we found you in,” Goren in. “Officers at the scene heard you scream before they found you.”

Donna looked up at the detectives. She was more scared now than she probably was inside the Merzela house. But she wanted to remember, no matter how much it was going to hurt.

“I remember waking up, hearing this laughing, like it was some kind of haunted house,” she said. Goren and Logan looked at each other; she remembered the noise of the boom box playing the recording of the demonic laughter. “I look over and I see Chris and this other person arguing.”

“Did you hear what was said?” Goren asked.

“No,” Donna replied. “But Chris was really mad. Suddenly, they were fighting. Chris hit the guy, and other guy hit him back. Then….” Her eyes widened in horror. “Oh my God,” she softly said.

“What?” asked Logan.

“He killed him,” Donna replied. 

“Who killed him,” Goren asked. But by the look on his face, Goren seemed to already know who it was.

Donna said, “They were fighting, and….” Her face turned more pale, and she suddenly cried out in agony. “He hit Chris and Chris hit him back and his face fell off.”

“His mask,” Goren said quietly. 

“Who was it?” demanded Logan.

“How could he do this?!” Donna cried out. 

Mr. Bradford quickly intervened. “That’s quite enough,” he angrily said. “Can’t you see-“

Logan ignored the demand. “Donna, who did you see?” he asked again.

Donna looked at the detectives. “It was Joey!” she cried out. “It was Joey Doyle!”


	11. Chapter 11

Almost immediately, Goren was on his cell phone, calling Captain Ross to get an arrest warrant for Joey Doyle and some mobile units to university. 

Just as fast, both Goren and Logan were back in the police SUV, headed for Hudson University from the hospital at breakneck speed, the sirens going full blast.

“Joey Doyle killed six people all because a bunch of rich, beer drinkin’ frat boys and some stuck up sorority girl made him walk naked across campus because he had the hots for a girl,” said Logan. “That’s one motive for the books.”

“It doesn’t take much to set a guy off these days,” Goren said back.

“But Doyle doesn’t look like much physically,” Logan said. “He didn’t look like the proverbial ninety-eight pound weakling but there’s no way he could have taken on any of the Omega guys.”

“Remember, that one guy didn’t reach for his gun tucked in his pants,” Goren said, “because he somehow recognized Doyle. He didn’t perceive him as a threat. He also probably didn’t see the knife that sliced him open.”

That made sense to Logan. The Omega frat boys probably didn’t think someone like Joey Doyle was capable of murder, since they pushed him around that easily the first time around. That experience had been the catalyst for all those murders and simmering all this time before it finally exploded with all that rage and anger that night. 

“Remind me not to piss off anyone who’s a nerd,” Logan said. “They might really be a psychopath.”

The SUV rolled onto the grounds of Hudson University. Their first stop was the dormitory where Joey Doyle lived. Joey wasn’t there. His roommate and his neighbors said they hadn’t seen him in a couple of hours.

“Joey’s not home,” Logan said. “Any guesses?”

“Maybe Greek Row?” Goren suggested. 

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

They walked out of the dorms and headed to the cars. It was already night, as lamplights were already on, illuminating the campus.

As Goren and Logan headed for their SUV, the person who was watching the dorms earlier took out his cellphone and quickly dialed a number. There was no answer, as the call went to voice mail.

“Derek, it’s Cade,” he said. “The cops are back. They look like they know something. I don’t know what’s going but it can’t be good – “

The phone was suddenly yanked out of his hand. He turned to see who grabbed it, and saw it was Goren. 

“Gimme that back!” he demanded. He reached out, only to have his arm grabbed by Logan. 

“So, what’s going on?” Logan demanded. “Are you looking for Joey Doyle too?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Cade insisted, even though he knew the game was up.

“You’ve been spying on Joey?” Goren asked. “Letting your Omega buddies know what he’s up to? And keeping an eye on us as well?”

“I want a lawyer!” Cade suddenly said. 

“Go get one,” Goren replied. “And while you’re at it, get a new phone.” Goren proceeded to chuck the phone far across the walkway. It landed about sixty feet away, shattering into a bunch of pieces. The detectives got back to their SUV and headed off to Greek Row.

“I should’ve done that,” Logan said inside the car.

“Maybe I’m becoming a little more like you,” Goren said as he drove.

“That’s really scary.”

A couple of minutes later, they arrived at Greek Row, parking the SUV between the Kappa Delta Epsilon sorority and the Omega Theta Xi fraternity. 

Goren and Logan got out of the vehicle and headed right for the Kappa house. But as they approached, a pair of guys from the Omega house emerged and got between them and the Kappa house.

“Hi guys!” Logan sarcastically greeted. “Where’s Derek Pratt?”

“None of your business!” one of the Omega boys said back.

“We’re making it our business,” Logan said. “We’re here to arrest him.”

“And we can’t do that if he’s dead,” Goren added.

The smugness on the Omega boys faces turned to a little bit confused. 

“Where’s Pratt?” Logan asked again.

“He’s not here!” one of the Omega boys replied. “He took off. Where I don’t know.”

Goren was about to say something when they heard shouting coming from the Kappa house.

“Let’s hope Joey’s inside there,” Logan said, as he and Goren pushed past the Omega boys and headed to the Kappa house.

They entered the Kappa house, where they immediately heard back and forth shouting, littered with vile epithets, between two of the Kappa girls. They entered the main living room, where Shannon Dutton was involved in a heated exchange with one of her sorority sisters.

“What the hell were you thinking, Brandy?” Shannon screamed at the other girl, as other Kappa girls came into the room. “ 

“We were doing the right thing!” Brandy Hallstrom said back. “We wanted Donna out, so we did something about it!”

“So you roofied her?!” Shannon angrily said. 

“Yeah, so?” Brandy countered.

“So, women’s groups are going to love you,” Logan said to her as him and Goren stepped between Shannon and Brandy. “Setting up a sorority sister to get raped.”

“That’s none of your business!” Brandy snapped at the detectives.

“It became our business when someone sliced up Allison and her friends,” Goren said. 

Shannon looked at the detectives. “So how much do you know?” she asked.

“They don’t know a damn thing!” Brandy insisted, as the two Omega guys from outside came into the room.

“We know who killed Allison,” Logan said.

The entire room suddenly went silent.

Shannon finally asked, “Who?”

Logan replied, “Joey Doyle.” Shannon gasped in horror. "Donna woke up and saw it happen."

“That loser?” one of the Omega boys scoffed.

“And thanks to you,” Goren said to the Omega guys, “he’s now a murderer. Then again, I’m guessing you already knew that.”

“But you couldn’t tell anybody,” Logan said. He looked over at Brandy. “Am I right?”

Shannon looked at Brandy. “What the hell are they talking about?”

“Sounds like Brandy helped Allison and the Omegas slip some RHP to Donna,” said Logan, “and the Omegas planned to have their way with her, in hopes they would help Allison run her out of your sorority and maybe even the university.”

“Except Joey found out what was going on that night,” Goren continued. “He was walking around Greek Row that night and you didn’t recognize him. He was wearing a devil’s mask.”

“That was him?” Shannon asked.

“Then again, all of you that night were probably a little too drunk to care,” Logan said. Shannon reluctantly nodded. Logan continued, “Joey probably followed them out to that old house off campus and realized what was going on. He already had a butcher’s knife with him, so he decided to rescue Donna.”

“And he killed our friends,” one of the Omegas added.

Logan said, “Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?” 

“He also killed Chris,” added Goren. “Chris went out there to rescue Donna, found the others dead, and must have come upon Joey with the knife in his hand, standing over Donna. He must have got the wrong idea, and got into it with Joey. Joey killed him, and had to leave Donna behind when he heard the cops coming up to the house.”

The members of the Kappa and Omega house just stood there as they bitterly digested what Goren and Logan had said about the murders. One mean, practical joke, perpetuated by a bunch of stuck up social elitists, had turned one lowly, lovesick college student, into a cold-blooded murderer.

“So, where’s Derek?” Logan asked again. “Joey might be after him next.”

“We don’t know where he went,” one of the Omega boys replied, as sirens began to echo in the background. 

“Any guesses?” Goren asked.

The two Omega boys shook their head; they had no idea. Their parents were getting their money’s worth.

Goren said to them, “You got a cell? Call him.”

“Call him yourself,” one of them sneered back.

“Fine,” Logan said, taking out his handcuffs. “You’re under arrest for criminal conspiracy.”

“Conspiracy!?”

“You guys helped arrange the rape of a young woman,” Logan said, grabbing the arm of one of the Omegas. “They’re gonna love you guys at Rikers.”

“We really don’t know where he went!” the Omega guy insisted. “That’s the truth!” 

Goren shoved his hand into the jacket pocket of one of the Omegas, and pulled out his cell phone. “Let’s see if you have him on speed dial,” he said. The phone was unlocked, so Goren tapped a couple of times to get the directory. “Here he is.” A couple of more taps, and soon Goren could hear the sound of ringing phone on the other end.

“Hello?” Derek Pratt responded.

“Hi, this is Detective Goren of the New York City police. Where are you, Derek? Tell us so we can arrest you.”

“Who is this?”

“Like I said, this is the New York City Police. Where are you?”

There was a click on the other end.

“He hung up,” Goren said. He turned to Logan. “Maybe we can find out –“

Logan was already on his cell phone. “One step ahead of you.” Into his phone, he said, “T.A.R.U.? We need to find a phone, fast. I got the number right here.” Goren read off Pratt’s phone number. “Find out where this guy is. I’ll hold.” T.A.R.U. was the police department’s Technical Assistance Response Unit. They had the technology to track down cell phone users off the cell towers and approximate their location.

Fifteen seconds passed. Logan got his answer. “Thanks!” Logan looked at Goren. “T.A.R.U. said Pratt was close to campus.”

“How close?” Goren asked.

“Just east of here. And I pretty good idea where.”


	12. Chapter 12

Goren and Logan instructed the police officers who arrived at the Omega fraternity and Kappa sorority to keep an eye on them, not to let them make any outside calls, so not to tip off Derek Pratt or anyone else that might be with him. As soon as they were done were that, they got back into their SUV and headed to where T.A.R.U. had picked up the signal of Pratt’s phone.

The Merzela house.

“A house that once belonged to a drug cartel and now the scene of six murders,” Logan said as he and Goren got out of their car. “I hate to be the realtor who has to sell this house.”

Both detectives approached the house, guns drawn. Backup would be coming in a couple of more minutes.

“Want to wait?” Goren asked.

“For what?” Logan returned. “Back up or for one of them to kill the other?”

“Let’s go in,” Goren replied. 

“You’re thinking like me.”

“No, I would go in anyway.”

The crime scene tape had been pulled off the front door, which was slightly ajar.

“What does Pratt hope to accomplish by killing Joey Doyle here?” Logan asked. “Satisfaction?”

“Maybe it’s the other way around,” Goren replied. “Doyle gets to finish the job here and now. And maybe have Donna all for himself.”

“That’s going to be hard to do from Ossening. For either one of them.”

Both detectives entered the house. Inside, it was just as dark inside as it was outside. Both men had flashlights with them, holding them with their left hands, their service weapons with their right.

They came upon a staircase. Logan flashed his light up the steps.

“I’ll go upstairs,” Goren said quietly. “You take down here.” Logan nodded.

Goren quickly and quietly went up the stairs, as Logan continued into the living room.

Goren reached the top and went down one of the hallways. Nothing. He doubled back, and went around the staircase to another section of the upstairs. If someone was up here, they were being very quiet about it, as well they should.

Goren reached the end of the second hallway. Nothing again. He turned around and….

The person charged head long into Goren, knocking the light and his service weapon out of his hands.

****************************************

Downstairs, Logan heard the rumble from upstairs. He turned around, but a sudden flash of light temporarily distracted him. He kept his service weapon as steady as he could, as he tried to see who or what was in front of him.

“Drop your gun, now.” Logan could make out someone in front of him, holding a flashlight in one hand, and a .32 automatic in the other. It was Derek Pratt.

“Not happening,” Logan said back, his weapon leveled at Pratt, trying to fight off the spots still blinking in his eyes.

“You’re scared,” Pratt taunted.

“Of what? I’ve had guns pointed at me before. You’re the one who should be scared.”

“Why?”

“Joey Doyle’s looking for you.”

“That little pisser?”

“That little pisser killed a bunch of your friends. You’re next.”

“I doubt that.”

“What? You already killed him?” Logan looked for a reaction as best as he could. Pratt’s smugness remained unchanged. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Pratt said. “You’ll be – “ Suddenly Pratt gagged, and looked upward. His eyes rolled up as he suddenly pitched forward and fell. 

There was a large gash of blood on his upper back, growing larger and blood oozing out quickly. 

Logan looked straight ahead. There was Joey Doyle, still looking skinny. Except he had this cold blooded look about him, not to mention an axe in his hands, the blade dripping with Derek Pratt’s blood.

********************************************

Goren wrestled with his attacker in the dark, unsure if he was armed or not. It didn’t matter, as it was going to be him or the assailant. 

His assailant was trying to land blows with his right hand as they wrestled around on the floor, but the close quarter contact made it hard for him, much less Goren. And Goren had at least thirty pounds and a few inches on this guy whoever he was.

Goren broke his right hand free of his attacker, and clouted him on the side of the head. That seemed to stun him enough to allow Goren to get up. Once on his feet, Goren grabbed him by the collar. He yanked him up and slammed him into the nearest wall head first. He pulled him back and did it again. And again. And again….

After the sixth time, Goren let go and the assailant dropped like the proverbial sack of potatoes. He grabbed his flashlight off the ground and shone it in his attacker’s face. Bloody as he was, it wasn’t Derek Pratt. Probably another Omega guy helping Derek Pratt out.

As he slapped the handcuffs on his attacker, he also thought that bashing the guy’s head into a wall was something that Logan would do. Goren himself would’ve talked the guy into surrendering.

***************************************

Of course, Goren wasn’t staring down an axe wielding, love sick, nut job, like Logan was that very second downstairs.

“Put it down! Now!” Logan ordered, his weapon and flashlight now aimed at Doyle.

Doyle didn’t respond.

“So that’s it?” Logan said. “You saved my life from this jerk, and I’m supposed to be grateful?”

“Something like that,” Doyle replied.

“Don’t be so sure. You still killed six people –“ Logan quickly glanced down at Pratt – “make that seven. That’s still life in prison.”

“I can live with that.” Pratt still held the axe firmly in his hands.

“I doubt that. You’re still a murderer.”

“Look who I killed. They’ll love me.”

Logan saw the opening. “Really? Even Donna?”

Doyle nodded.

“You killed her boyfriend,” Logan said. “She’s not going to want anything to do with you.”

Doyle began to twitch. 

“Chris was the one she loved, not you,” Logan said, keeping an eye on the axe. “She was never in love in you, And if she was, do you think she wants to spend the rest of her life with a psycho like you.”

“I saved her life!”

“You killed her boyfriend!” Logan said to him angrily. “He was here to rescue her. What happened? You wanted to be the hero, not him?” At the same time, Logan was hoping that Goren would show up. Goren was much better at psychological manipulation than he was.

“I was there for her! Not him!” Doyle was still holding the axe, tensing up.

“We know what happened,” Logan said. “She woke up just as you killed Chris. She saw you kill her boyfriend.” Doyle began to shake. “Whatever chance you had with her, you blew it when you killed Chris!”

Doyle cried out in anguish. If Goren was doing this, Doyle would’ve dropped his axe, crying his eyes out. Instead, he raised the axe quickly and – 

“POLICE! DROP IT!” Goren yelled out, pointing his gun and shining his flashlight at Doyle.

Doyle didn’t drop the axe. He reared back to swing but it was too late.

Both Goren and Logan fired their service weapons – Goren was coming down the stairs and stopped on the last step before he leveled his gun at Doyle. Logan fired first and quick, three shots right at Doyle. Goren did the same, firing from the staircase.

The axe fell out of Doyle’s hands. Doyle stood there for a second, bullets ripping open in his chest and side, before he fell.

Goren ran over to Doyle, as Logan breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are you all right?” Goren asked.

“Next time, you talk to the psycho,” Logan replied.

“You’re welcome.” Goren knelt down next to Doyle. He could hear heavy breathing.

“He’s still alive?” Logan asked, shining his light on Doyle.

In the light, Doyle’s head was facing upward, still gasping for air. Blood was all over the front and side of his shirt, his body ripped open by the bullets. He looked up at the detectives, his eyes beginning to fade. Outside, sirens began to sound, as police cruisers began to arrive.

“Tell her….” Doyle struggled for air as well as the words. “I’m sorry…..Tell Donna…..I….I love….her….” 

Doyle’s head finally tilted to the side, frozen with his mouth open as his eyes closed for good.


	13. Chapter 13

NOVEMBER 5, MAJOR CASE HEADQUARTERS  
10:45 A.M.

“It’s over,” Goren said to the others in the room. 

Goren and Logan were in Captain Ross’ office, along with Frank Reece, his son Alan. It was Election Day. They were discussing the aftermath of the deaths of Derek Pratt and Joey Doyle.

“Doyle, he’s the one who killed my daughter?” Reece asked.

“He is,” Goren replied. “Was, anyway.”

“He practically admitted as much,” Logan added. “He was in love with Donna and tried to stop what they were doing to her and rescue her by killing everyone. Chris Mallory showed up and he killed him too.” 

Frank Reece just shook his head. His son Alan did the same, only not as convincing.

“She brought it upon herself,” Alan said.

There was a sick truth to what Alan said. Allison Reece had planned to run Donna Bradford out of the Kappa Delta sorority by having her ganged up on by the Omegas. Only Joey’s intervention prevented that from happening; unfortunately, he did so by killing five people, then made it six by killing Chris Mallory, who was probably the only truly innocent victim in all this.

Add to that Joey saving Logan by whacking Derek Pratt with an axe, followed by Logan and Goren shooting Doyle, and that made eight dead inside the house. The realty company was really going to have a hard time selling that house.

“So, it’s all over?” asked Reece.

“All except the paperwork here,” Ross said. “There’s going to be a lot of fallout from this.”

Captain Ross was right. First off, there was the shooting review board for both Goren and Logan. The review concluded that both detectives had acted justifiably in shooting Joey Doyle.

The fallout was swift at Hudson University. By Tuesday’s end, the Omega Theta Xi fraternity had lost its charter, because of the criminal activity it had engaged in over the Halloween incident. Rick Ellison, the Omega who had attacked Goren in the Merzela house, was arrested for assault and was expelled from the school. Him and his broken nose, courtesy of the wall and Goren, were sitting in a cell at Rikers Island, awaiting his trial date.

As for the Kappa Delta Epsilon sorority, they were still on probation. Brandy Hallstrom, who had helped Allison Reece set up Donna and slipped the RHP into her, was expelled from the university.

After she was released from the hospital, Donna Bradford was welcomed back into the sorority by Shannon Dutton. The rest of the Delta girls did so as well, after Shannon gave them the choice of accepting Donna or being kicked out of the sorority.

The news of Allison Reece’s murder and of her bad behavior that brought it about, was not good for Frank Reece’s campaign. There was sympathy for Reece, not so much for what his daughter did. Reece lost the election to Carl Dunham, by a margin of 54 percent of the vote to his own 46 percent. 

Reece apologized to the Bradford family for his daughter’s actions; the Bradfords forgave him. The Bradford also forgave the family of Joey Doyle, as they apologized in the press for their son’s actions.

John Billings kept his command at the 32nd Precinct. His desk sergeant, Don Worland, wasn’t as lucky. Because of his indifference on Halloween in believing what was going on at the Merzela house was a prank call, he was suspended for three months from his job, and some higher ups within the department were encouraging him to take an early retirement. 

There was also some talk that the victim’s families had threatened to sue the police department and the university for wrongful death for failing to protect their loved ones. But when word got out about what their loved ones were doing when they were murdered, the threats of lawsuits quickly disappated.

Soon, things were back to normal, as Megan Wheeler came back from her assignment in Washington DC, and Alex Eames came back from leave on Wednesday. Both had heard about the Hudson University murders in the news, but wanted to hear all about it from Goren and Logan themselves. Both detectives told the story as straight forward as they did.

“Sounds like you had a little role reversal going,” Wheeler said to them.

“How so?” Logan asked.

“You were messing with Doyle’s head,” Eames said to Logan. “That’s Bobby’s job.”

“Goren was too busy messing with some other guy’s head and a wall,” Logan pointed out. Then he realized, “I should have been the one to do that.”

“Next time,” Goren promised. “And I’ll talk to the guy with the axe.”

“My pleasure,” Logan said. “Mind games are not my thing.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

Wheeler whispered to Eames, “Maybe these two guys should work together more often.”

Eames thought about that. The intellectually and manipulating Goren and the fiery and intense Logan, together on another case.

Eames replied, “New York might not survive another case with those two together again.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, what do you think?  
> I'm planning on re-writing this as a "Criminal Minds" story sometime later.


End file.
